


In Between Days

by heavyweather



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Bad Days, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Anchor, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Feels, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavyweather/pseuds/heavyweather
Summary: Sometimes the world is too much to handle is it makes Stile anxious. The days where everything is jumbled are hard to sort through and others stick out like a sore thumb. Often, existing is harder than it sounds.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 90





	In Between Days

The world sometimes feels like it doesn't exist. Like Stiles could one day stop whatever he was doing and everything would stop around him and nothing would start again until he said so. It also feels like it will never stop moving or existing and it's exhausting to realize that he has no control.

Often the world was suffocating in an unpleasant way. anxiety racked his body more often than not and regardless of how many years he's dealt with it, there are always days where he feels everything and nothing at the same time. 

The past few days have been that limbo for him. That weird in between where everything is exciting but the second he starts anything the energy is taken away and he's left confused and tired. He wakes up when he needs to and socializes with people, Derek, Scott, his dad, the rest of the pack, but when left alone his brain is empty until it isn't and Stiles doesn't have the energy to figure out why he feels so restless all the time. 

The pack doesn't really understand, most of them only really worried about survival and pack and the intermittent threats that they stumble upon. 

His dad gets it, has been there when it's just too hard to be empty and when it's far far too easy to feel so much. Scott gets it for the most part, understands when stiles is quiet it's not necessarily a bad thing, but that he shouldn't prod at the edges of his friends' restlessness unless asked to. 

It's easy to go to either of them, his dad allows him to just be and feel and experience existence for a while before life comes crawling back into his mind, Scott distracts Stiles from how overwhelming being alive feels and lets him just lean into Scott energy so he doesn't suffocate in his worries. 

In between days are the hardest. Stiles feels everything and nothing at the same time, so he'll feel anxious with whoever he's with. So he's with no one. in between days are for headphones, late nights, and limited talking. The use of words is too hard when his brain is running faster than he can keep up with, so Stiles opts to just not try until he can catch up to his own existence before it disappears. 

On in between days, he stays in the study, keeps to books and his phone. eventually he'll track in blankets and random snacks from the kitchen. Trying to avoid the others in the loft and pretends that he doesn't have obligations until they are unavoidable. 

By the end of them, when he eventually decides that it's late enough that no one is awake, he'll leave his unfinished projects in the study and move to the living room. Stiles will spread out on the couch, his body tucked into the back of the cushions, and sleep there. In between days don't feel real so Stiles isn't obligated to be an adult.

In between days are hard. And confusing. So Stiles just ignores what they mean until they pass and then acts like nothing happens. 

But it's been an in between week. It was currently early Thursday morning and Stiles has been stuck since last friday. Feeling floaty and fake makes him flighty, makes him detached from how he normally acts. He feels like a different person like this, often allows himself to forget the tangible reality of his presence on earth and just live in his fleeting thoughts.

Even if it's easy to allow himself to recede from existence, the actual reality of his weight on the world and the presence of himself in others lives catch up to him eventually. The everything of days piles up and is often ignored until they fall across the pleasant bubble Stiles makes for himself in his study and then the nothing he feels suddenly feels like he's drowning.

But he doesn't know how to say he's drowning because he doesn't understand why he feels like this and what he's feeling doesn't make sense, so there's no reason to feel like this when he's fine and life is good and things are good.

But he still feels achy and confused and no one's awake to talk him out of his thoughts running over his brain, so he's stuck to hear himself go into nonsense while the world is asleep around him. The world doesn't exist this late, so if Stiles allows himself to feel everything now, he won't feel anything when he wakes up and everything will be fine. He'll be back to his normal Stiles self and no one will know how much he feels like a hurricane in his own body.

Right now, sitting on the small chair in his study, with his head phones at full blast to drown out the confusing thoughts, Stiles doesn't exist, which means he's not obligated to feel any certain type of way. His eyes unfocus on a spot on the wall while he rubs his thumb nail against his lip and shakes his leg despite sitting on it. 

The world feels weird and Stiles feels even weirder and nothing is making sense so Stiles can't even focus enough to express why he feels weird or even that he feels different. So he allows his brain to do whatever while he doesn't exist beyond his headphones and the spot on the wall.

Stiles stays like this until the door starts to creak open. He supposes there was a knock, but he didn't hear it. He doesn't take his eyes off the spot on the way, but he takes his hand away from his lip. The movement feels wrong but Stiles doesn't know why. 

It's Derek, Stiles doesn't look over, but he knows it's Derek. He heard the loft door close a few hours earlier, whatever guest that was visiting having left along with the slam of the heavy door. No one else is in the loft but Stiles and Derek. 

His boyfriend walks over to him and says something, whatever it is falls on deft ears as Stiles can't even hear his own breathing over the music he's listening to. The sudden start of a conversation makes Stiles quickly reach up and pause the noise in his ears to have Derek repeat whatever he said. The silence rushes in and fills stiles' mind and almost makes him zone out again. 

He looks up at Derek so he has at least some type of stimulus to distract him from everything coming back into existence.

"I made dinner." Derek looks down at him with a small smile. Stiles can see the small amount of sadness in his eyes and it makes him glance back at the spot on the wall. The world exists outside of this room and it feels confusing. 

"Okay." It's the first thing Stiles has said in over five hours. His voice is small but short. He doesn't move. doesn't move the blanket off his lap or take the headphones off his ears or even acknowledge the request laid over Derek's words. 

They stay in the room for a minute or two. Derek is still looking at Stiles. Large eyes scanning his face and the sweatshirt Stiles has been wearing for four days, over the headphones that are blinking red at him. Stiles forgot to charge them last night. 

Stiles doesn't move either. Just keeps shaking his leg and glancing back and forth from Derek to the spot on the wall. He knows he needs to eat, but he's not hungry. His body doesn't feel like it could move and he doesn't even know if he wants to move. If he moves, time goes on and life is real and Stiles still feels weird. 

But eventually everything is becoming too still, now that there's no music to drown out the nothing. So Stiles yanks the blanket off his lap, rips his headphone off and leaves them in the chair, and quickly makes his way out the room. Derek is behind him, but keeps his distance, knowing that Stiles doesn't like to be crowded on in between days. 

"I made pasta.'' Derek says as Stiles picks up a plate and looks into the pot on the stove. "I didn't feel like anything else, so.'' Stiles knows Derek is being normal for him, pretending that Stiles just didn't spend almost 72 hours straight cooped up in the study while life went on without him outside. But it's okay. He serves himself a spoonful.

Stiles still doesn't say anything as he gets himself a fork and pads into the living room to curl himself into the big recliner in the corner. He nobs when Derek asks him if he wants some water and begins to eat.

The tv is set to some renovation show, a family wants to live on an island for way less then they can actually support themselves. Stiles would normally laugh with Derek about the ridiculousness of it all, but Stiles doesn't feel normal, so he doesn't. 

Derek comes back into the room with his food and Stiles' water. Stiles takes it without a word and sets it on the floor next to his feet. Derek sits on the sofa. 

They eat in relative silence. Derek will occasionally mention the happenings of the pack or something Deaton wants his help with. Stiles will hum and spare a glance at his boyfriend before turning back to focus on his food.

He rationally knows that he shouldn't feel so on edge right now. This is actually a nice evening; his boyfriend made him dinner and they are watching a show they both like. They would be having a pleasant conversation, if Stiles was responding like he normally did. But for some reason, everything sounds like it's grating against his brain. 

The sound of the forks on glass, the realtor's voice coming from the tv, the conversation made by his boyfriend. Everything. it feels like his ears are going to fall off before he even finishes his dinner. Stiles keeps his head down, keeps his eyes in his pasta, because he doesn't want any more notice shown to him. He doesn't want to be included in something that makes his skin scrawl and his brain scream at him. If he pretends that he's not real, then maybe everything will stop making his brain explode.

The world was confusing and it made him feel like he couldn't breathe.

Stiles is bouncing his leg violently and holding on to his fork tightly when he feels something go over his ears. He lifts his head to see Derek standing over him, a look of worry on his face. Stiles can hear his music in his ears, the sound washing out the noise of the tv and the fridge humming and the occasional car passing by. 

Derek got his head phones. 

His boyfriend makes to move back to the sofa, but Stiles catches his wrist, pulling his attention back. They share a long look. Stiles doesn't speak, doesn't have enough energy to formulate words or say what he wants, but Derek has known him for long enough that he doesn't need to. 

Another small smile crosses Derek's face, but this time there's no sadness there. He takes the plate from Stiles' lap and sets it on the coffee table, he wraps the hand clutched in Stiles' grip around his arm and gently leads Stiles over to the couch. 

Derek tugs Stiles down with him as he lays back against one of the arm rests. Stiles goes easily, heart beating much easier when his cheek ends up on Derek's chest. The wolf threads one hand through the small curls at the base of Stiles' scalp and brings the other under Stiles' sweatshirt. His skin is warm against Derek's fingers and he gently pushes against Stile's spine as the other relaxes into their position. 

It's nice to feel, to feel Derek's hand on his neck and down his skin. It makes Stile more aware of his body and his existence, but not in a scary way. Derek's treating him like he's delicate, like if he holds on too tight, Stiles might cease to exist. Like Stiles' body is as impermanent as his mind feels.

It's an odd mix of awareness. Stiles can't hear much of anything, his headphones blocking out everything but his heart in his throat. He's got his nail running along his lip again, running the tip against his cupid's bow and into the corners of his mouth. He can feel Derek breathing against his head, soft puffs coming every time his chest descends. He can see the edge of Derek's shoulder out the corner of his eye and the TV is shining in his face. 

Stiles gets tired very quickly. Eyes drooping as Derek swirls strands of his hair between his fingers. Breathing slowly as Derek edges up his back and across his shoulders, occasionally rubbing into any knot he feels under gentle fingertips. 

It's easy to turn his head, manoeuvring around his headphones, and snuggle into Derek's shoulder. It's dark in this corner of the couch and Stiles allows himself to pull a leg over Derek's hip and burrow into his boyfriend's shirt before deciding that existing is a lot easier while asleep.

Derek smiles as he listens to Stiles heartbeat slow and his breathing even out. It scared Derek, only a few minutes ago, Stiles' heartbeat sounded like he was having a heart attack and Derek could literally feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves. But now everything is left soft and calm.

Stiles' hand remains by his mouth, his fingers now splayed against Derek's shirt while his mouth reminds open as he sleeps. Derek doesn't stop the motions of his hands until he too eventually succumbs to slumber, lulled under by the knowledge that Stiles can finally rest.


End file.
